Greener Pastures

By: Seth Meyer

It’s the 1950s. I am 17, and my younger brother, Roger, and I are doing a bit of fishing by the creek. It is getting late now and we should be getting back to our single, controlling, father at home. 

“Think it’s time to get back to that ol’ coot?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess it’s ‘bout that time, let’s see what poor excuse he’ll give us for ‘supper’ this time,” he replied.

So, we headed back, barefoot on the painful gravel road half a mile until we returned home at 7:00 at night. We had 1 pancake and 1 egg each for us both.

It’s the next day and I am at my one room schoolhouse. At school, I feel like I’m surrounded by people with the smallest aspirations in life. The students my age never have dreams of wanting something bigger than this small town. Once I get outta here and into the real world, I am going to become a big country singer in Nashville. I want to be the next Johnny Cash. I want to perform for crowds so loud that I can barely keep track of what words I am actually supposed to be singing. But this is nearly impossible to accomplish. For right now I am going to keep my hopes in check and not become too excited. 

At school, we discuss the topic of what we want to be when we grow up. The teacher goes down the row, past three boys in front of me who all say that they want to be farmers. Then, finally, It comes my turn. I tell the class I want to be a farmer too. I lied. I really want to escape this small world and my strict father. 

Four years pass, and I have yet to make any gutsy move to become a singer. I just don't have the bravery to move on with my dream. I have now, currently graduated highschool and am working on the farm for my dad. The exact opposite of what I wanted to do but ended up doing anyway. 

Suddenly, I have a “great awakening” in me. A burst of energy. I am going to leave this old, sad life behind. I pack up during the night while my Dad is sleeping. But, while I am making my triumphant escape, I see my younger brother, Roger, he is looking at me with a puzzled look. 

“Where are you going, Albert?” he asks.

“Oh ya know, just out for my midnight run,” I reply.

“Are you going to be lifting weights with that guitar too?” he inquires.

“Ya know the old saying, a guitar a day keeps the doctor away,” I nervously chuckle back.

“I think I know what’s going on here,” Roger says, “you’re going to attempt to make a name for yourself in the old rootin’ tootin’ city of Nashville.”

“You caught me!” I  snap back, “you think you can manage around here without me?”

“No! No! No! I am not going to stay here basically with this…”

But I’ve already walked out the door before I could hear him finish. 

Before ya know it, I’ve traveled 4 hours and made my way to Music City. Once there, I decided to drive my way to a record label. They turn me down, they tell me that they already have Johnny Cash. My dream is ruined. I now have the options of either working hard at my hopeless dream or returning home in shame.